whip – Contemplating the divine

Quant à moi, peu dormi, vidé, brimé

C’est le 14 juillet, et nous célébrons les déesses républicaines françaises telles que Marianne et… euh…

Liberté, Egalité, Sororité!

Bon, je pense que ça suffit pour la langue française aujourd’hui.

Captions with a vaguely French connection, anyway.

Paris is famous for its stylish leather goods.

One from my ‘advice to a US sub visiting Europe‘ occasional series, obviously. The caption is deliberately misleading: the French insist on following their own local food customs, so you’ll probably find yourself swallowing butts from unfiltered Gauloises, rather then some mild ‘low tar’ cigarettes.

As the label might indicate to even the most male-brained reader, this is of course the magnificent, elegant and beautiful Ibicella, who can be found, worshipped and, ideally, donated to at the address shown. And here she is being adorable.

You might not learn many words in French, but you’ll be *really* good on everyday (and every hour, minute and second) politeness.

And do I really need to mention this is Mistress Eleise? Look, I like maple syrup as much as the next slave, but I can tell you: it is not Canada’s greatest export. I’ve tried both.

Her dungeon doesn’t actually have a view of the Tour Eiffel, you understand. It doesn’t have a view of anything.

There are actually plusieurs esclaves, but they are all much the same.

Or maybe they’re just trying to make things more interesting for the ladies.

P.S. Allez les Bleus! Mais aussi les lions anglais…

P.P.S. OK, so the Bleus didn’t really allez. Or not as much as the Spanish went ándale ándale ándale anyway. So to cheer up any depressed frenchmen – or heterosexual males of any sort, I imagine – here’s the lovely Ibicella, being patriotic.

Mock the meek

More scenes we’d like to see.

Supreme authority

Honestly, the sense of entitlement of some men! One little problem and he runs – well, hobbles – straight to her. He doesn’t stop for a moment to think that maybe it’s not the chain that’s the problem, but his attitude.

These absurd DEI initiatives have gone way too far. Boys are actually happier in menial jobs making tea and cleaning shoes. There’ve been, like, studies and stuff.

Certainly always gets – and holds – my attention.

So easily done. Always such a shock when you look up and realise! But this lad’s going to be OK: home safe and sound and the promise of a good hard whipping to help him be more careful next time. He was lucky… there are some cruel ladies out there.

If it was enjoyable they wouldn’t call it ‘hard’ labour, now, would they? Boys can be so stupid. But Barbara knows some educational techniques that work even on males.

Compulsive order

Topping from the bottom again? You’d think he’d have learnt by now. Well… I’m sure she doesn’t want to hurt him any more than is strictly necessary, but there do have to be consequences for that kind of defiance.

I know it’s an established trope that women get annoyed when men come too quickly, but back when I was still dating, I found they didn’t mind at all. Most never even realised it had happened, actually.

It’s a horrible feeling when you realise you’ve locked yourself out. Not one that’s happened to me for years, I’m happy to say, as my SO much prefers the approach of keeping me locked in.

Actually, later she and her friends came up with many more humiliating marks, but they’re young and just getting started in the ways of womanhood, bless ’em.

In the event they wouldn’t bend the rules: they were OK taking him, but they insisted on the full six months quarantine. Which posed a dilemma: on the one hand, she was only going to be there for the two-week holiday, so that seemed a bit excessive, but on the other he *was* being *very* irritating.

Their relationship was much deeper and more meaningful than one based on knowing who the fuck he was, or noticing anything he did. But doesn’t Babs look fabulous in black? Even if he accomplished nothing else in life – and as far as she knows, he didn’t – except giving her an opportunity to wear it after his death, that’s a meaningful life well-lived, right?

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal

As you know, this blog features immature material on mature themes so I suppose I do both these things.

NB: anyone playing the game of ‘guess the original song/poetry* won’t succeed with this one, as it’s just a handy safety mnemonic. Y’know like: “Stub it out on arse or thighs, he’ll lose his sight if in his eyes.”

* But did you get all the rest?

It doesn’t cost anything to be cruel

In fact, some ladies even find it quite lucrative. So why be nice?

Yes, thanks, her foot’s actually fine – oh, didn’t you ask?

Mr Mason’s lucky – many men into CP don’t get a chance to act out their fantasies for real.

My SO is sometimes passive-aggressive like this. When she’s not being aggressive-aggressive, that is.

He’ll be wanting long trousers next! Absurd.

Her command of the English language isn’t perfect but she’s somehow picked up the words ‘reaming’ and ‘pegging’ on the way, showing impressive commitment.

Well-behaved women seldom make history

More glimpses of bygone worlds: male inferiority is really nothing new. Should have been last week, but rocket went up.

Justice must be seen to be done – and preferably enjoyed.

She’s an idealist, always hoping for perfection.

Actually, it’s all worked out quite well, as she finds she gets more enjoyment from producing her own eunuchs than merely buying them in.

Just as well: he’s a very poor dancer but his swallowing skills are renowned across the county.

The winner of the tournament will receive his lady’s favour. As will all the other participants, to be honest, as she finds they tire easily.

She is firmly opposed to almost all forms of cruelty and her husband will simply have to reconcile himself to that.

Boots do furnish a room

Today’s special celebrates that most elegant of female footwear (and ankle, calf and, excitingly, occasionally thighwear): the boot. As well as looking and tasting lovely, boots are highly practical and can be used for all kinds of kicking, crushing and treading underfoot. Plus, they’re so easy to get clean and the wearer can even be paid while waiting for the process to be completed to her satisfaction. Boots boots boots boots…*

Both wearing boots in this image. But she’s doing all the work… in so many ways.

She’s blended in quite well with village life: she rides a lot, takes part in the hunt and has even paid to have the quaint old stocks in ther market square repaired and brought back into use.

The delightful Princess Neive, whom I deeply regret never having had the chance to meet when she was working. There are videos of her around… listen to her lovely giggle.

More country pursuits. He provides all the gear they need as well, although some of the whips and sets of spurs are hardly suitable to be used on poor, defenseless horses.

Coincidentally, after his session, her client admitted to being the managing director of one of the largest cold-calling centres in the country. He later regretted telling her that, but she didn’t: she found it motivated her to greater creativity.

Everything my SO says to me is in the imperative, regardless of the precise grammatical form she uses.

I think dommes should tell dumb sub jokes to even the score. “Why did the sub stare for hours at the carton of orange juice?” Because his Mistress fucking told him to.

* Marching up and down again.

Occasionally I put found femdom down here. Now this isn’t found femdom. It’s just a funny little video imagining vikings with modern Scandinavian accents and attitudes. But if you watch to the end, the last second or so is just a little bit Contemplating the Divine. Just a little. But it’s not worth skipping to the end, just watch the video if you think the ‘modern viking’ thing sounds amusing and treat the last moment as a bonus.